Herbert Nehrlich - Horseflesh
Was it the devil resting on <br />my rubber booted foot? <br />He drank for an eternity, <br />his mane reminding me <br />that flies abound in sulphur air <br />the weight was overwhelming now, <br />a hoof so sharp, of Clydesdale size, <br />a gentle, crushing giant. <br />The memory of that event <br />has lingered now for years, <br />the more I live the more I fear <br />it was the foot of Satan. <br />Perhaps the horse, for just one day, <br />a kindred spirit unbeknownst, <br />to both of us, but devils scorned, <br />sees wooden stakes aimed at the heart <br />of evil aimed at beast and man. <br />There was a scent that made me stand <br />in warming touch, unspoken words, <br />so close that it attracted him <br />a grimacing mad face. <br />Yet in the face of balmy heat <br />and feral understanding <br />two souls so distant, under par <br />unite in harmony.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/horseflesh/
